


What I Want

by zynnser



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Derek's Alpha Form, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Derek Hale, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zynnser/pseuds/zynnser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not his best comeback ever, but in his defense, most of his brainpower is going towards thinking about exactly what it is Stiles has been <i>practicing</i> with. For <i>months</i>. </p><p>Or the one where Stiles wants to ride Derek's alpha form but has trouble asking for what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Want

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born out of my desire to write alpha form!Derek/Stiles. While the xeno doesn't actually take place until the last scene, I've tried to portray a healthy established relationship building up to adding a new kink into their sex life.
> 
> Beta'ed by [Kari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/neesha89/pseuds/Kari/), all remaining mistakes are my own.

"Come _on_ , Derek," Stiles whines, pushing his hips back into Derek's groin. "You're a _werewolf_ , I _know_ you can fuck me harder than this."

Derek groans, his hands tightening on Stiles's waist as he complies, shoving his cock into Stiles's ass with enough force to knock his boyfriend against the headboard.

" _Yes_ ," Stiles hisses out, angling his torso towards the bed so Derek can plow him into the mattress, his hand flying to his cock to jerk himself off as Derek's balls slap against his ass. "Just like that."

Derek doesn't slow down, but he spares a thought to appreciate the view. Stiles is speared on his cock and panting into the bed, and he looks so perfect that Derek can't help but lean forward and bury his nose in the crease between Stiles's shoulder and neck to take in the scent of sweat and arousal. Stiles moans, tilting his head to the side to give Derek better access. Derek's lips twitch up at the gesture and he bites down on the bared flesh with blunt human teeth, feeling Stiles's muscles tense beneath him.

It doesn't take long before Stiles is coming, body trapped between Derek's cock in his ass and teeth at his throat. "Fuck. _Fuck_. Shit, Derek," Stiles whimpers as he orgasms, streaking the bed with his come. Derek detaches his mouth from Stiles's neck and watches as Stiles slumps against the bed, drained. He waits until Stiles's eyes flutter shut, signaling that Stiles has finished riding out his orgasm, before placing a hand on Stiles's ass and slowly starting to pull out so he can finish over Stiles's back.

"What are you doing?" Stiles mumbles into the bed, pushing back against Derek's hand petulantly. "We're not done; I thought you wanted to come inside me this time."

"You get sensitive," Derek mutters, feeling a little lost as he pauses in his movements to look at Stiles for direction.

"Not that sensitive," Stiles counters, turning his head and giving Derek a weak glare. "Want you to come inside me."

Stiles might look like he's about to fall asleep, but he also seems to really wants this. At least that's what Derek tells himself as he obeys, sinking back into Stiles's body with a groan. Stiles often complains about how it isn't fair that Scott always gets his way by bringing out the wounded puppy look, but Stiles is the one Derek's never been able to say no to. Either he's picked up a few things from his best friend or Derek is a huge sucker for the Stilinski charm. It's probably the latter, but Derek comforts himself with the knowledge that it was his affinity for the Stilinski charm that jumpstarted their relationship after the alpha pack left.

"God, Stiles," Derek groans, the sound of his voice wrenching him out of his thoughts as he bottoms out. Stiles grins impishly at him, making a show of bringing his come-coated hand up to his lips and licking it clean. Derek whines in the back of his throat and leans forward to kiss Stiles, tasting the come on his tongue as he rolls his hips in gentle thrusts, slowly working himself towards orgasm.

When Derek comes the sensation rolls over him like a wave, and he clings to Stiles to anchor himself in reality. Through the wash of pleasure he feels Stiles stroking his arm and whispering soothing nonsense in his ear. Eventually the endorphin high dissipates, and Derek comes back down with a moan and buries his face in Stiles's neck, rolling them onto their sides into a more comfortable position. He pulls out slowly and lets his hands roam over Stiles's body, making sure that he isn't hurt before cuddling up to him, nose tucked behind Stiles's ear.

Stiles sighs happily, hand reaching back to tangle in Derek's hair and hold him close. "You should let me go get us cleaned up," Stiles says, words belied by his actions as he shifts to rest more of his weight against Derek.

"You don't seem to be objecting," Derek replies, letting one hand trail down between Stiles's legs to where his come is leaking out. He smears it over Stiles's inner thighs, rubbing it into the skin to ensure that the scent of _them_ will linger even after Stiles showers in the morning.

"Nope," Stiles says contentedly, turning his head to the side and pulling Derek in for a kiss. Derek obliges, cradling Stiles's neck so that he doesn't strain himself at the awkward angle. Their lips don't fit together perfectly when they kiss this way, but Stiles's enthusiasm and his teeth tugging playfully at Derek's bottom lip are enough to make Derek give a genuine smile.

"So can I stay the night?" Derek asks, eyes flickering pointedly towards Stiles's bedroom door.

Stiles nods, rolling over to face Derek. "Dad's working an overnight double to cover for the people who quit after the kelpie fiasco. Besides, you're going to owe me a shower in the morning if you don't let me clean up now."

Derek gives Stiles a predatory grin. "I think I can live with that."

"You can do better than just living with it," Stiles snorts, pushing gently on Derek's shoulder to get him to roll onto his back. "Come on, Derek; I want to sleep on you."

"Bossy," Derek mutters, but he goes anyway, wrapping an arm around Stiles when he curls up against Derek, his head resting in the dip of Derek's shoulder.

"You're just jealous that I'm too bony to make a good pillow," Stiles says, his voice muffled by Derek's skin.

Derek hums noncommittally and reaches out an arm to turn off the bedside lamp. "Goodnight, Stiles."

"Goodnight, Derek."  
__________

Derek wakes up when Stiles rolls to the edge of the bed and stretches dramatically, the sound of his joints cracking like gunshots in the early morning quiet. Not wanting to lose the opportunity for lazy morning-after sex in bed, Derek scoots close enough to Stiles to get a hand on his hip, holding him back before he can fully leave the bed.

"What are you doing?" Derek grumbles, blinking the sleep out of his eyes so he can focus on the clock. "It's six in the morning; get back in bed."

"Somebody promised me fun times in the shower," Stiles says, sounding way too alert for someone who claims to be allergic to mornings. "And I need to get to school on time, because I have Harris for homeroom, and I don't want detention for the rest of my high school career when you make me tardy."

"You have two more hours before the bell rings," Derek grouses into the pillow.

"All the more reason to get started early," Stiles says with a cheerful smile, using two fingers to remove Derek's hand from his hip and place it on the bed. Derek shoves his hands under the pillow and glowers at Stiles. He knows exactly what Stiles is aiming for with his facade of being obnoxiously alert. Stiles gives him a hopeful look and Derek sighs loudly, giving up any lingering thoughts of half-asleep sex in bed. Seeing that he's won this round, Stiles laughs and jumps up, only staggering a little bit as he makes his way towards the bathroom.

Snorting in amusement, Derek shuffles to the edge to the bed and stands up, letting out a satisfied rumble as he reaches up to stretch out the stiffness that comes from letting Stiles use him as a pillow. Derek closes his eyes and sighs, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck to work out the kinks. When he looks up, Stiles is leering at him from the bathroom door. Derek smirks at him and widens his stance, watching Stiles's pupils dilate and his cock twitch as he takes in the view.

"Like what you see?" Derek asks smugly, feeling himself start to respond to Stiles's gaze.

Humming an affirmative and licking his lips, Stiles takes a step out of the bathroom doorway towards Derek. Derek seizes the opportunity, reaching Stiles in three long strides and pinning him against the wall next to the door. He immediately leans in for a kiss, morning breath be damned. Stiles laughs a little at his determination, but he wraps his arms around Derek's neck anyway and smiles into the kiss.

"Want to get started outside the shower?" he asks when Derek moves down to nip at his neck, tasting the stale sweat from the night before.

"I wanted to get started in bed, but you vetoed that."

Stiles snorts lightly, "Sleepy morning sex is for mornings when I actually get to sleep in; not when I have to get up and go to school afterwards."

Derek taps a finger against Stiles's hipbone, ceding the point. Adjusting his focus back to the task at hand, Derek sucks a hickey onto Stiles's collarbone just below where his shirt will fall once he's dressed for school. "Love it when you smell like this."

Stiles wrinkles his nose and looks down at Derek with a purposely obtuse frown. "Like day old sweat and come?"

Rolling his eyes and not bothering to reply, Derek sinks to his knees to bury his nose in the crease of Stiles's hip. It still smells strongly of him where he rubbed his come in the night before, and his tongue snakes out for a taste. It's lost its bitterness overnight, leaving the salty tang that is the perfect mixture of _them_ that Derek loves, and he nips gently at Stiles's skin where the scent is strongest.

Above him, Stiles moans, his hand coming down to touch his swelling cock. Derek tilts his head back to take Stiles's balls into his mouth. Gasping, Stiles lets go of his dick to thread his fingers through Derek's hair, his thighs shaking with the effort of holding still. Derek opens his mouth and pulls back, blowing cold air over Stiles's balls and watching as they try to retreat into his body. Stiles gives an unmanly shriek at the unexpected sensation and yanks at Derek's hair, trying to escape the feeling.

Derek lets himself be pulled away and manages not to give a fond smile at Stiles's disgruntled expression. "That was so not what I had in mind, asshole."

"I'll make it up to you," Derek promises, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice as he slides his hand up Stiles's thigh to circle the base of his shaft.

"Ugh, why do I even like you." Thrusting his hips into Derek's grip, Stiles braces himself against the wall and stares up at the ceiling like it holds the answer. Derek tenses his cheek muscles to keep from grinning; they've played this game before, and he knows Stiles's _just get on with it_ tone when he hears it. It's directed at him often enough both in and out of the bedroom. But just because he knows what Stiles wants doesn't mean he can't tease him a little first.

"I have it on good authority that it's my sparkling personality," Derek says dryly, his hand slowly working its way up Stiles's cock.

"No, I don't think that's right." Stiles says, his eyes snapping to Derek as he pauses in a feeble attempt to maintain his facade of detachment when Derek rubs his thumb over his slit. Derek gives him a smug look to indicate that he knows he's won this round, but he stills his hand so Stiles can continue, his breathing only slightly more ragged than before. "I think it has more to do with your eyes. I've always been partial to red."

"Partial to danger, more like," Derek says, letting his eyes bleed red and his fangs extend as he laps at the precome beading on Stiles's cock.

"Fuck," Stiles groans, rolling his head back to lean against the wall as another spurt of precome leaks out onto Derek's tongue, his cock twitching in Derek's hand. Derek takes a moment to savor the sharp taste of Stiles on his tongue before he retracts his fangs and leans in to kiss and lick at the shaft of Stiles's cock. Once he's slicked Stiles's cock to his satisfaction, Derek sets his lips in a tight ring and slides down until his nose is nestled in the wiry hair at the base that always smells like musk and sex. Derek takes a deep whiff and hums, letting Stiles feel the vibrations before he adjusts his angle and relaxes to take the head of Stiles's cock into his throat.

Stiles makes a noise that's an odd mix of a shout and a whimper and drops his hands to clutch at Derek's shoulders. Derek swallows around him, trying to get Stiles to make that noise again, but Stiles's only response is his increasingly harsh breathing.

When he starts to get light-headed from the lack of oxygen, Derek backs off just enough to breath. Once he can see straight again, he hollows his cheeks and slowly moves off of Stiles's cock, making sure to lick over the flare of the head before he pulls off completely. Leaning back to look up at Stiles while still absently playing with the head of his cock, Derek considers his options. He briefly debates going for a rim job, but dismisses it when he remembers the last time he tried that the morning after and got a full fledged rant on human healing rates and perpetually horny werewolves. Fingering is out too, for obvious reasons.

Apparently Stiles thinks Derek is taking too long to decide, because he speaks up. "Dude, it's a morning blowjob, not rocket science."

Derek moves one of his hands up to fondle Stiles's balls while he talks, rubbing his stubble lightly against Stiles's shaft. "Anything can be rocket science with you."

"I resent that," Stiles says with a huff that turns into a strangled groan when Derek draws his tongue along the vein on the underside of Stiles's cock. "You're much more difficult than me."

"Am not," Derek argues, deciding to take the opportunity to see if Stiles is up for a little roughhousing. "You know, you used to get upset when I slammed you into things, but now you actually ask me to." He punctuates his point by pushing Stiles's hips more firmly against the wall and sucking on the head of his dick.

"I don't actually ask you to," Stiles protests, his hips stuttering uselessly against Derek's hands as he cards his fingers through Derek's hair, undermining his point. Derek raises an eyebrow. "I just... don't object when you do. I have negative objections when you do."

Derek smirks. "So you like it when I do this?" He moves his hands to grip Stiles's thighs, hooking Stiles's knees over his shoulders and standing up so that Stiles is trapped between him and the wall several feet off the ground, his cock level with Derek's face.

"Holy shit," Stiles says, hands windmilling before they catch Derek's biceps in a death grip. "Give a guy a little warning, would you?"

"Would you rather be on the ground?" Derek asks teasingly, leaning in to lick at Stiles's cock and letting his eyes turn red.

"N-no," Stiles says breathily. "No, this is good."

"Good," Derek says, letting his fangs drop just long enough to flash a toothy smile at Stiles before retracting them and setting to work. He bobs up and down and flicks his tongue against the sensitive spot on the underside of the head, knowing exactly what to do to get the reaction he wants out of Stiles.

"Oh my god," Stiles moans, hands tightening enough that they would leave bruises if Derek were human. "Oh my _god_."

Derek lets his hands drift to Stiles's ass, feeling the muscles tremble as Stiles resists the urge to thrust up into Derek's mouth and knock them both off balance. Squeezing once for good measure, Derek takes Stiles's weight in his hands, pushing Stiles deeper down his throat. Stiles whimpers, his body relaxing into Derek's grip even as his muscles tense in preparation for orgasm.

Pulling back so that he can play with the head of Stiles's cock, Derek adjusts his hold and extends his claws, careful not to scratch Stiles as they come out. Gently placing the claws against Stiles's skin, Derek applies just enough pressure to let Stiles feel them without breaking skin. Looking up at Stiles, Derek lets his eyes bleed red as he bobs shallowly on the head of Stiles's cock.

Stiles doesn't say anything, his grip on Derek's arms spasming as he comes, his eyes going wide and his breath hitching. Derek holds him through the aftershocks, sucking lightly on Stiles's dick until Stiles pushes him away with a whimper. Bending down, Derek sets Stiles's feet on the ground before mouthing his way up Stiles's body to claim his lips in a kiss.

"Fuck," Stiles says shakily as they break apart. "That was really fucking hot."

Derek darts back in for a quick chaste kiss and tries not to preen. He knows Stiles gets off on his strength, has known it since before they started dating, but he still feels a thrill every time he hears Stiles confirm it. Stiles groans deeply, leaning forward to rest his head on Derek's shoulder and letting Derek take his weight.

"I hope you're not expecting reciprocation right now dude," Stiles says, talking to Derek's feet. Or possibly his dick, since it's in Stiles's line of sight. "I need at least fifteen minutes to reboot after you suck my brains out."

Derek snorts in amusement, letting it show on his face even though he knows Stiles can't see it. "Do you need help getting into the shower too?"

Stiles hums happily and nods into Derek's shoulder. "Yes. You should do that. Help me shower."

"I was planning on it," Derek says, moving his hands to Stiles's shoulders and steering him gently into the bathroom.

"So long as I get clean and get out on time, you can do whatever."

"Whatever," Derek repeats, his voice flat and disbelieving.

"Within reason," Stiles huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he steps into the bathtub and turns on the water.

Derek doesn't reply, instead stepping into the shower and sealing the curtain closed against the wall. He crowds up behind Stiles as the water starts raining down on them, running his hands through Stiles's hair and grinding his erection against Stiles's ass. Tilting Stiles's head back, Derek nuzzles his neck and takes a deep breath, imprinting the memory of Stiles's scent before it gets covered with the chemical smell of soap.

Stiles's hand shoots out to grab Derek's wrist as he reaches for the shampoo. "That had better be going in my hair."

Derek huffs a little in indignation. The first time they'd had shower sex Stiles had rambled on about how shampoo wasn't an appropriate lubricant, and Derek hasn't forgotten any of it. Mostly because it's a lecture Stiles threatens to repeat every time they shower together, but also because Derek did his research before they started fooling around. He wants this - everything they do - to be good for Stiles, and so far he thinks he's lived up to expectations.

"It's not going in your ass."

Stiles squints at Derek like he's trying to discern his motives, and then releases his hand with a put upon sigh. "The things I do for you."

Derek snorts and squeezes some of the gel into the palm of his hand, rubbing his hands together slightly so the shampoo foams up before kneading it into Stiles's hair. "You love it."

"I do," Stiles says with a moan, pushing his head back into Derek's hands. "Hey, have you ever thought about getting a job at a masseur? Because you are incredibly good at this. And then we could have skeevy massage parlor sex."

"You'd get jealous," Derek says, tilting Stiles's head down as he moves his thumbs in circles up the back of Stiles's neck.

"Mmmmh. So we could have rough claiming sex at the skeevy massage parlor. Still not seeing a downside."

"Of course you wouldn't. Close your eyes so I can rinse your hair."

Stiles obeys and Derek spends a few seconds running his fingers through Stiles's hair and enjoying the silky feeling it only ever has when wet. Eventually Stiles pushes Derek back and moves his head out of the spray, his hand coming up to wipe water away from his eyes.

"That was way longer than you needed to rinse it," Stiles says in an accusatory tone. Derek just shrugs. Stiles knows Derek has a thing for his hair; it's a large part of the reason he grew it out.

Sighing dramatically, Stiles grabs the bottle of Dove soap and a washcloth off the ledge. "Okay. Next part; soap me up."

Derek takes them, but sets the washcloth back on the ledge. "We'll use that later."

Stiles jerks around to grin at Derek, expectation clear on his face. "Oh? Explain."

"I thought I'd start by washing here," Derek says, one hand dropping to stroke Stiles's inner thigh. "But I'm not going to use the washcloth." He pushes his erection pointedly against Stiles's ass cheek, pleased with the way Stiles's face flushes red and pupils dilate.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Stiles says, turning to brace himself against the shower wall. "I'm still pretty sensitive though, so don't try to get me off again, okay?"

"Okay," Derek affirms, pushing Stiles forward out of the water and soaping his thighs until they are slick. He takes an extra few seconds to fondle Stiles's half hard dick before gently cupping his balls and lifting them out of the way against his stomach.

"Ready?" Derek asks, plastering himself against Stiles's back.

"Been ready," Stiles replies, throwing a grin over his shoulder.

Derek darts forward to kiss his smile and lingers long enough to press a trail of butterfly kisses along Stiles's cheek up to his ear. "Flex for me," he whispers, teeth closing gently over the shell of Stiles's ear.

"Like this?" Stiles says, his voice full of false innocence as he curls his arm and flexes his bicep in Derek's face.

"You're not as funny as you think you are," Derek deadpans, wrapping his hand around Stiles's wrist and placing it back against the shower wall.

"I am totally as funny as I think I am," Stiles snarks back, grinding against Derek's dick. "And aren't you supposed to be doing something right now?"

"I am doing something," Derek says, adjusting his stance so that his cock slips between Stiles's slicked up legs. He pushes forward slowly, savoring the friction of Stiles's thighs. It's good for a few thrusts before the muscles in Stiles's thighs tense, and Derek lets out a high pitched whine at the too tight sensation.

"Sorry, was that too much?" Stiles says, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"A little," Derek grunts. "What you usually do is fine."

Stiles snorts lightly, but relaxes back into his previous position. "I'm usually a fucked out mess lying on a bed when you do this; I can't exactly take notes."

Derek resumes his movements, his cock sliding back and forth between Stiles's thighs. Stiles gets into the rhythm of it with him, tensing his muscles slightly as Derek pushes forward and relaxes them as Derek pulls back. The feeling of Stiles moving in time with him for no reason other than Derek's pleasure is so intoxicating that Derek doesn't consciously notice his claws coming out until he hears Stiles's voice. "Fuck dude, I should not find you popping your claws that hot. Especially when they're right next to my junk."

Derek tries and fails not to flush as he realizes exactly why his claws came out. "Sorry," he mumbles guiltily, resheathing them and taking a few calming breaths to center himself. He knows that Stiles enjoys his wolfish traits in the bedroom, but that's not an excuse for letting his instincts take over in a misguided attempt to please his partner.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Stiles says, sounding a little breathless himself. "You gonna finish or what?"

Huffing out a laugh at Stiles's brazen attitude, Derek resumes his movements, focusing some of his concentration on his control to make sure that he doesn't accidentally sprout claws or fangs. It doesn't take long before Derek's thrusts become erratic and Stiles obligingly squeezes his thighs tighter. Derek comes with a soft moan, pulling Stiles back against his chest, watching over his shoulder as his semen drips down Stiles's legs and disappears into the drain.

Sliding his hands down to bracket Stiles's thighs, Derek rubs his hands through the mess, spreading it around to cover more of the skin.

"Dude," Stiles says with a shaky laugh, relaxing against Derek's chest, "you totally have a thing for marking me down there, don't you."

"Shut up, you love it," Derek says, still riding too high from his orgasm to put any venom into it.

Stiles laughs, but doesn't deny it. Derek smiles into his neck and runs his hands up Stiles's chest then back down to circle his waist in a hug. Stiles presses back into his hold briefly before grabbing the washcloth from the bar and waving it under his nose. "C'mon, Derek. Time to get clean."

Derek lets out a lazy growl and snaps his teeth playfully at the hand holding the washcloth.

"Dude, no biting. This is high quality terrycloth right here. Besides," Stiles turns his head to smirk at Derek. "You know you want to get your hands all up in this."

"I just had my hands 'all up in this'," Derek points out, but he takes the washcloth anyway. The only response Stiles gives is a quick shake of his hips against Derek's, his laugh almost a giggle when Derek lets out a small pained noise at the stimulation. Coming from Stiles, it's basically an open invitation, so Derek soaps up the cloth and starts washing both of them thoroughly. Not enough to get the scent out, but enough so that the smell of them together won't be strong enough for Scott to complain when Stiles arrives at school.

After finishing with the washcloth and hanging it back on the shower bar, Derek pulls Stiles gently under the stream of water, using the excuse of rinsing away the soap to run his hands over Stiles's smooth skin. Stiles snorts in amusement when Derek takes a few extra seconds to touch his thighs, savoring the thought of his scent lingering there while Stiles goes about his day. Turnabout is fair play though, and once Stiles deems himself clean, he pushes Derek into the shower stream and returns the favor. Derek does say anything, just stands in the silence and soaks in the attention of Stiles's hands tracing the lines of his body.

"Okay, time to go get dressed," Stiles says, breaking the almost meditative silence and shutting off the water. He climbs out of the shower and reaches for a towel, scrubbing it vigorously through his hair before wrapping it around his waist and heading out to the bedroom to get dressed. Derek follows at a more sedate pace, using the spare towel to wipe himself down before draping it over his hair.

When Derek walks out into Stiles's bedroom smiles softly at the sight of Stiles pulling jeans over his favorite Batman boxers. They had been a gift from Erica after she and Boyd came back from the Alpha pack, and Stiles had grinned at her and hugged her like they were the best gift he'd ever received.

"So did you actually bring any clean clothes?" Stiles asks, turning around to face Derek and doing a double take at his nudity. "You know that's not actually how you wear a towel, right?"

"I know," Derek says with a smirk, purposely bending over to pick up his jeans from the floor.

From behind him, Stiles groans. "You're trying to kill me with hotness, aren't you? No one should be allowed to be that hot."

Knowing that Stiles doesn't expect a response, Derek doesn't give him one. He does swing his ass in Stiles's direction though, giving him a better view as Derek purposely fumbles with his jeans for a few more seconds before straightening up. The jeans get a once over and a quick sniff test to be sure there are no glaring holes or obvious new stains, but they seem to have escaped the festivities of the night before unscathed. He gives an internal shrug when he doesn't find anything too objectionable, and slides them on, choosing to forgo boxers just to see the look on Stiles's face when he realizes Derek is going commando.

When he turns to check, Stiles is indeed watching him with shameless appreciation. His satisfaction must show on his face, because Stiles's expression changes to one of fond exasperation.

"Yes, yes, you are ridiculously attractive. Will you please finish getting dressed so that I don't have to take another shower before showing my face in school?"

Derek is tempted to draw it out and tease Stiles until even the humans will be able to smell it on him, but a glance at the clock tells him that anything he instigates now will definitely make Stiles late to class. And if Stiles is late to class because of Derek, he'll get his revenge by making Derek take him out to every greasy burger joint in town, and there are only so many onion ring-curly fries-burger combos Derek can eat before his stomach starts to rebel.

"Fine," Derek says, reaching down to grab his shirt from the night before and pulling it over his head. "Do you want me to meet you after school?"

"Nah," Stiles replies, waving him off. "I've got lacrosse practice, so I'll stop by when I drop off Isaac and Boyd. My dad's going to be in for dinner tonight, so I'm going to come home early and steam vegetables to make sure we have something healthy."

Derek gave up a long time ago at making Stiles realize that microwaving frozen vegetable packs doesn't actually count as steaming them, so he just nods in agreement. "Okay, text me when you get home?"

"Will do," Stiles says, sticking his foot up on the bed to tie his shoelaces.

"I'll see you later, then," Derek says, walking over to Stiles and giving him a chaste kiss.

Stiles leans in, quickly changing the kiss from 'chaste' to 'filthy'. Derek goes with it, letting Stiles have control. It doesn't last long, Stiles pulling back to rest his forehead against Derek's after only a few seconds.

"You really need to stop with the chaste goodbye kisses, Derek," Stiles says teasingly.

"So you keep saying," Derek replies, a note of humor in his voice. He darts in and presses a quick peck to Stiles's lips before pulling back and rushing to the window. He's already on the ground and running towards the woods when he hears Stiles calling after him.

"I'm going to beat you at that one of these days!"

Derek grins and runs faster.  
__________

Saturday night is movie night at the loft, and most of the pack is gathered around the widescreen TV watching Wrath of Khan. Stiles had picked the movie, insisting that he would indoctrinate Scott in the ways of 'Classic Trek' before lens flares and J.J. Abrams ruined his brain if it was the last thing he did, and Isaac had backed him up. Though technically Isaac had picked the movie and Stiles had backed him up, because Stiles was banned from organizing movie night after he tried to make the pack marathon all six Star Wars movies without popcorn or soda to prevent them from being 'distracted' from' the greatest sci-fi series of all time'. They made it through five of the movies before Lydia got bored and dragged them out for 3 am pizza. Stiles spent the meal bemoaning the loss of Episode 6, but even he'd been hungry enough to admit food was a good idea.

Stiles apparently has more reverence for Star Wars than he does Star Trek though, because the space burial scene has barely ended before Derek feels him leaning in and sliding a hand up the inseam of Derek's jeans in a classic come on. Derek, for all that he knows the pack is assaulted with reminders of their relationship on a daily basis, doesn't particularly want to start the foreplay this close to his betas, so he grabs Stiles's hand and places it back in the popcorn bowl. And if he glowers at the innocently offended look Stiles shoots him as the credits start to roll, it's Stiles's fault.

In retaliation, Stiles flops over on top of Allison and resumes eating his popcorn. _Allison_. Who Derek is mostly okay with, but still can't feel totally comfortable around yet because she's an Argent and Derek has a history with the Argents. Which Stiles _knows about_ , the little shit, because they had this conversation back when they were first trying to define the boundaries of their relationship.

In a show of great maturity, Derek waits for the last loud musical piece to start so that only Stiles and Allison can hear his growl. Stiles manages to smother his laughter. Allison pats Stiles's head and smirks knowingly at both of them.

Derek is about to sit up and bodily haul Stiles back onto his lap when Scott's voice jars him back into reality.

"But wait. What happened to Spock?"

"Watch the next one and you'll find out," Isaac replies, his voice dripping with satisfaction from knowing something Scott doesn't as he crawls forward to change the DVD.

"Tonight?" Scott asks, sounding hopeful.

"Hell yes," Isaac agrees, grabbing the disk out of the open tray and snapping it back into its case.

"Actually, I think we might want to call it an evening," Allison says, leaning her weight against Scott and looking up at him through her lashes. Derek might not always be Allison's biggest fan, but right now he could kiss her. Almost.

"But I want to know what happened to Spock," Scott whines, looking torn as he glances back and forth between Allison and Isaac.

"You can find out next week. Right, Boyd?" Allison says, turning to face Boyd.

Boyd wrinkles his nose slightly at having his movie choice commandeered for the second time in as many months, but nods anyway. "Yeah, we can watch _The Search for Spock_ next week."

"Ooh, good choice," Erica says, leaning into Boyd's shoulder and leering up at him. "I thought I was going to have to talk you into it." Boyd doesn't say anything, but he's smiling down at her in a way he never does for the rest of the pack.

"Ugh, you guys are disgusting," Stiles says, flopping across Derek's lap to jab a finger at Erica's shoulder. "Get a room."

Erica swats Stiles's finger away before raising her hand in a mock salute. "You always have the best ideas, Batman."

"Damn right I do. Now shoo!" Stiles makes flapping motions with his hands, and Derek shares a commiserating eye roll with Boyd as Erica drags him off the couch to the door.

"See you at school on Monday, Stilinski!" Erica yells from the door, slamming it behind her to drown out anything Stiles might say. Stiles sighs and puts on a disgruntled look as he glares at the door. Derek does his best not to laugh, but Erica and Stiles's ongoing competition to always have the last word never ceases to amuse him. Primarily because Stiles is human and should 'have that shit locked down' (Stiles's words, not his), since she can hear him about three times as far away as he can hear her. But ever since Erica discovered that she could use other noises to drown out whatever Stiles says in retaliation, she's been winning about half the time. It's only a matter of time before Stiles installs a speaker at the front door to the building.

"You'll get her next time," Scott says, standing up and walking over to pat Stiles's shoulder.

"She has an unfair advantage," Stiles grumps, sitting back against the couch and crossing his arms. "Werewolves always have the advantage."

Scott laughs, and Allison grins from where Isaac's helping her up from her bean bag chair. "Pretty sure we've got the advantage on that one," she says.

Stiles pouts some more, and Scott bumps his shoulder in solidarity. "I think it's a girl thing."

"Definitely," Stiles agrees.

"So," Allison says, walking up to stand next to Scott and hooking her arm in his. "Why don't the three of us go get some late night pizza?"

"Pizza sounds good," Isaac says, falling into step with Allison and Scott as they head towards the door.

"Pizza always sounds good," Scott agrees, holding the door open for both of them before stepping out himself. "I want mine with pepperoni."

Once their voices have faded down the hallway, Stiles flips himself over in Derek's lap and gives him a shit eating grin. "I was thinking I might turn in early tonight." Derek doesn't deign to answer, just raises an eyebrow in pointed disbelief.

"Okay, so maybe I was thinking we should turn in early tonight. And by turn in, I mean sex."

Derek snorts. "You always mean sex."

"You love it," Stiles says, sitting up to rest his head against Derek's shoulder.

"I do," Derek replies as he stands, lifting Stiles with one hand behind his shoulders and the other hooked under his knees as he rises. Stiles squawks at the indignity of being carried to bed bridal style, but his protests aren't sincere enough for Derek to consider putting him down.

"You'd better not-" Stiles starts as Derek tosses him onto his bed. Derek manages not to do more than crack a smile at Stiles's disgruntled look as he sits up and glares.

"I'd better not what?" Derek asks, smug amusement evident in his voice.

Stiles glares for a few seconds longer, then looks away and pouts at the wall. "You're a jerk."

"Am I now?" Derek says, stalking towards the bed and leaning down over Stiles so that their faces are only inches apart.

"Yes," Stiles asserts, staring Derek in the eye and refusing to back down. "A huge jerk who'd better be planning to make it up to me."

"You want me to kiss it better?" Derek teases, darting forward to peck Stiles's cheek. "Here, maybe?"

"No."

"Then here?" His lips briefly land on Stiles's forehead.

"No."

"Here, then." Derek drops a quick kiss on Stiles's nose.

"Dammit, Derek!" Stiles whines, grabbing Derek's shirt and yanking him down so that they're lying flush on the bed. Derek chuckles and lets Stiles roll them over so he's sitting straddling Derek's hips.

"C'mon Stiles," Derek goads, placing on of his hands on Stiles's wrist and rubbing circles into the sensitive underside. "Where am I supposed to kiss to make it better?"

Stiles gives a good approximation of Derek's growl and surges forward to capture Derek's mouth in a bruising kiss. Derek submits to Stiles, letting him control the kiss and set the pace. It doesn't take long before Stiles tires of Derek's passivity and pulls back enough to glare at him.

"Dude," Stiles reprimands, placing his hands on Derek's shoulders and leaning all his weight on them, pinning Derek to the bed. Derek could get up if he really wanted to, but that isn't the point of this game. Instead, he quirks and eyebrow at Stiles's mildly disgruntled expression and waits.

" _Dude_ ," Stiles says again with slightly more feeling, punctuation the word by bouncing his weight on Derek's shoulders. "I _know_ you read the signals I was giving off earlier. You know what I want."

Derek raises his eyebrow higher, but concedes enough to run his hands down Stiles's back, one sneaking under the waistband of his jeans to rub against his hole. Letting out a hiss, Stiles pushes against Derek's hand, relaxing the muscles and taking just the tip of Derek's finger into his body. Derek lets it happen, pressing his palm more firmly against Stiles's ass and pulling them together until he can feel Stiles's growing erection against his stomach.

Stiles bends forward, lowering his head enough to kiss Derek as his hole clenches around Derek's finger. Letting the claws out on his free hand, Derek traces the curve of Stiles's spine with the tips before burying his fingers in Stiles's hair, holding him in place. Stiles moans a little, and Derek uses the hand in his hair to pull his head to the side, exposing his neck for Derek to mark. He latches on to the spot under Stiles's jaw that drives him crazy, and is rewarded when Stiles's dick twitches against his stomach.

"Eager much?" Derek says once he's satisfied that the mark he's sucked into Stiles's neck will still be visible in the morning.

Eyes glinting with mischief, Stiles starts moving his hips, rutting his dick against Derek's stomach and pushing back against Derek's finger in turns.

"So you want it dry? I can do it dry," Derek deadpans, probing gently at Stiles's rim with a second finger, but not actually trying to achieve penetration.

Stiles's muscles flutter at the touch even as he snorts at Derek's light teasing, "Yeah, right." He leans forward, reaching over Derek to the top drawer of the nightstand where they store the lube for easy access. Easy access for Derek only, apparently, as it takes Stiles several seconds of rummaging around before he emerges victorious with the bottle.

"Show me your hands, big guy," Stiles says, waving the bottle around like a prize.

Derek eases his finger out of Stiles's ass, tugging lightly on Stiles's shirt instead of presenting his hands for imminent lubing.

"Clothes first."

Stiles grins. "I don't know about that. There's a certain appeal in leaving them on. And your jeans..." Stiles smirks, running a hand appreciatively up Derek's thigh before trailing his fingers just a little too lightly over Derek's obvious bulge.

"And here I thought you wanted it rough tonight," Derek says, his voice a little too strained from the effort of not pushing up into Stiles's touch to sound sincere.

"Who says jeans can't have a place in rough sex?"

Derek gives him an incredulous look, grabbing the hem of Stiles's shirt and yanking it up to his shoulders, tugging until Stiles raises his arms and lets Derek slide it off over his head and toss it to the floor. "If you wanted clothed sex I would have taken you on the couch," Derek points out.

"But the couch is sacred territory for pack bonding only, Derek," Stiles says in a mockingly sweet tone as he helps Derek out of his shirt. Derek snorts as he tosses it towards the door.

"If you actually believed that then we wouldn't have christened it the day I got it."

"Hey," Stiles says, rising to his knees and splaying his hands innocently. "We had to do something to get rid of the disgusting odor of previous ownership. It was a charity project."

"A charity project, huh?" Derek says, hooking his fingers through the belt loops on Stiles's jeans and jerking them hard enough to make Stiles pitch forward, his hands breaking his fall with his nose just an inch above Derek's. "Exactly how many 'charity projects' have you done?"

"I can think of a few," Stiles says teasingly, leaning down to nip at Derek's ear. "Like putting up with your eyes having too many colors and ruining my poetry. And the sharp pointy fangs and claws interrupting my lazy morning sex."

"Oh, I see," Derek says, slipping his hands between them to open Stiles's jeans and push them down over his hips. "So no more shifting during sex."

Derek wraps a hand around Stiles's erection, letting his nails lengthen into claws and pressing them against Stiles's stomach just hard enough for him to feel the change. The moan in his ear and the stutter of Stiles's hips against his tell him how much Stiles is enjoying their banter.

"I didn't... didn't say that," Stiles denies breathily, pulling himself up to look Derek in the eyes. "I _definitely_ didn't say that."

"So you want it like this, then?" Derek asks, letting his eyes glow red and his voice descend into a growl as he speaks. He tightens his hand around Stiles's cock and leans up, kissing him hard and feeling Stiles run his tongue along Derek's elongated canines.

"Fuck," Stiles says, eyes blown wide. " _Fuck_ , Derek."

"I think so," Derek says, rolling them so that he's leaning over Stiles instead of the other way around. "Pants off."

Stiles lets out a puff of air and complies, shucking the last of his clothing, and turning face down on the bed. Derek stands up and moves behind Stiles before he unzips his jeans, letting the sound echo through the room before sliding them off and moving back onto the bed.

"Lube," Derek says, holding a hand out in front of him. Stiles fumbles around in the sheets for a second before his hand shoots back behind him, waving the tube in the air. Derek motions for the lube to be put in his hand before realizing Stiles isn't looking at him. Feeling somewhat silly and more than a little relieved that Stiles couldn't see him, Derek reaches to where Stiles is holding the bottle out behind himself.

"About time," Stiles huffs when Derek takes the bottle, moving his hands to brace himself on the bed and turning to look over his shoulder. "I'm going to need a lot of that tonight, so don't skimp."

Cocking an eyebrow, Derek squirts a generous portion onto his hand, rubbing it between his fingers to warm it up before he touches Stiles. "I thought you wanted it rough tonight?"

Stiles grins and wiggles his ass at Derek. "I want the slipperiest butt imaginable. The most slippery butt you can have is the kind of butt I want. I want this because of reasons."

"Fine," Derek says with a snort, "I won't ask."

Placing his clean hand on Stiles's ass, Derek spreads his cheeks so he can see Stiles's hole. It's relaxed, just like the rest of Stiles, and Derek can't resist leaning forward to run his tongue over the soft skin. The scent and taste of Stiles's skin this close to his entrance are pure and undiluted, and Derek loves it. He always likes to spend a few minutes appreciating it when he gets the opportunity.

"Dude," Stiles's voice sounds a little strained and jolts him back into the present. "Not that I'm not a huge fan of rimming - I _totally_ am - but I was thinking maybe we could, you know, get this going a little faster?"

Derek stays where he is and growls against Stiles's skin, earning a moan from Stiles as the vibration flows through him. He does pull back then, moving his lube covered fingers to trace the saliva slick rim of Stiles's entrance.

"One or two?" he asks, testing the pucker gently with his index and middle fingers, enjoying the way it opens pliantly for him.

"Start with one," Stiles says a little breathily. "Shouldn't need long."

Derek obliges, pushing one finger past the tight ring of muscle. It slides in smoothly, Stiles relaxing to take it in without any real resistance. There is no resistance at all after Derek moves it in and out a few times, so he pushes all the way in and crooks it to brush across Stiles's prostate.

A shudder passes through Stiles, and he lets out a soft whimper, involuntarily chasing the sensation by pushing back against Derek. "Okay, more."

The second finger doesn't meet with any more resistance than the first, and it isn't long before Stiles asks for a third. When three fingers are moving easily within Stiles's body, Derek pulls back and reaches for the bottle of lube to coat his dick.

"Wait," Stiles says, stopping Derek with a hand on his wrist. "Four fingers."

Derek frowns, knowing that Stiles has already been adequately prepared, but doesn't say anything. Instead he squirts a little more lube onto his hand and moves his fingers back to Stiles's entrance. Stiles sighs happily as the first three fingers push their way back in, his body already adjusted to their size. Derek makes a few thrusts just for good measure before he presses gently against Stiles's rim with the fourth finger. To his surprise, it slides in next to the other three without much effort.

"Been doing this a lot on your own?"

Stiles hums in agreement, rocking back onto Derek's fingers. "Always better when it's you though."

Derek snorts softly, not bothering to reply, and curls his fingers, making sure that Stiles feels their full width. Stiles groans loudly, and Derek can smell the precome dripping from his cock. When Derek doesn't move, Stiles pushes harder, his body swallowing Derek's fingers almost down to the knuckle. Derek pulls back slightly, easing his hand out of Stiles's entrance. "I'm not going to fist you. You're not- I'm not- I'm not."

"I know," Stiles says quietly, almost nervously, as though he's going to ask for something else he's not sure Derek is willing to give him. "I'm not asking you to. I'm ready now."

Barely preventing himself from letting out a relieved sigh, Derek withdraws his hand to coat his dick in lube before rising to his knees to line himself up with Stiles.

"Ready?" he asks, just to be sure.

"Put it in me, big guy," Stiles says, reaching around to spread himself open with his hands and giving Derek a grin that's just a little bit too shaky to be teasing the way he knows Stiles means it.

Derek plays along anyway, growling and flashing his eyes before slamming his hips forward and burying himself in Stiles. Stiles lets out a short wail, and pitches forward onto the bed.

" _Shit_ , dude, that was so not fair," he says after he gets his recovers.

"Really?" Derek says innocently, circling his hips and giving a few shallow thrusts that drive the breath out of Stiles. "Because you definitely liked it."

"Just because I _like_ it doesn't mean it's _fair_ ," Stiles protests, his body already syncing up with Derek's to meet him thrust for thrust. Derek alters his rhythm, savoring Stiles's frustrating moan as he compensates. Shifting again, Derek slows his movements so that his cock catches against Stiles's rim, dragging against the sensitive flesh in a way that causes Stiles to shudder beneath him.

Thrusting in again, Derek starts up a steady but slow pace and leans over Stiles, dropping kisses along his spine and running his hands along Stiles's arms. They move together for a few minutes, Stiles enthusiastically meeting Derek halfway, before Derek suddenly stops, plastering himself to Stiles's back and refusing to grant either of them the friction they need.

"So," he whispers into Stiles's ear, "are you going to tell me the plan for tonight."

"Depends on if you ask nicely," Stiles says, trying to wiggle himself into a position where he can grind against the bed.

Derek runs a clawed hand down from Stiles's shoulder to his stomach, tapping lightly to enforce his point. Stiles stops struggling, his breath hitching in excitement.

"I asked you nicely earlier," Derek says, grinding into Stiles's ass in teasing circles that provide no real relief. "I only do that once."

"Hmmm," Stiles hums, "So maybe you should try asking again."

Derek stills his hips and lowers them so that his body weight is pressing Stiles into the bed. Bringing his hands up to Stiles's shoulders, Derek lets his claws out and slides them down Stiles's arms until their fingers are intertwined and his face is pressed against the back of Stiles's neck. He lets his fangs slide out and press against Stiles's skin before he speaks again, lowering his voice into the growl he knows Stiles wants to hear.

"What are we doing tonight?" he growls out, noting how the scent of Stiles's arousal spikes at the sound of his voice. "Are we just fucking? Do you want me to scent you, make you reek of me for days? Or maybe you want me to mark you, so that you have to wear scarves for a week. Or is it something else, _Stiles_."

"Fuck," Stiles whispers, bucking against Derek's hold.

"You want me to fuck you." Derek says. He doesn't phrase it as a question, but leaves it open ended for Stiles to add on to if he wants.

" _Yes_ ," Stiles breaths out, arching up against Derek as he lifts himself up enough to get the leverage he needs to thrust into Stiles again. Stiles moans and raises his hips to meet Derek's, reaching beneath himself to stroke his cock.

"Let me know," Derek whispers into Stiles's ear, all traces of the deep growl gone despite the fang he runs along the flushed skin. Stiles nods, seemingly content with their current course.

Derek sets a moderate pace; fast enough to be stimulating for both of them but not as hard as Stiles usually demands on the nights like this. He keeps up the rhythm, enjoying the feel of being surrounded by Stiles's scent and his body as he waits for a request or signal that Stiles wants something to change.

Stiles's panting becomes harsher in a way that means he's close. Derek briefly wonders if this means that whatever Stiles had planned for tonight will get pushed back to their next night together, or whether he decided to drop it altogether.

"Derek," Stiles says quietly between Derek's thrusts, and Derek slows, leans down to listen to Stiles despite the groan of protest at his change of speed.

"What do you want me to do?"

Stiles hesitates for a moment, his body going completely still beneath Derek before he seems to make up his mind.

"I want you to add a finger," he says, keeping his face buried in the pillows so that Derek barely make out the muffled words.

Derek gives Stiles a confused look. "Stiles, I'm not sure-"

"Add a finger," Stiles repeats. "Now, like this."

Still processing exactly what it is Stiles wants, Derek doesn't respond. At his silence, Stiles twists around to face him.

"I want you to add a finger in, next to your dick. I'm stretched enough for it, and it's- it's something I want to try."

Stiles's face is burning red, so Derek decides not to voice any of his questions. "Okay," he says, leaning forward to give Stiles a reassuring kiss before placing his hand against Stiles's ass, one finger gently pushing against the well stretched rim of his entrance.

Slowly, Derek pushes in, his finger entering alongside his dick. Stiles lets out a little sigh, and Derek can feel him tensing and relaxing in turns as he gets used to the new sensation. It feels a little odd to him, to have something else inside Stiles, but it's not a bad feeling, just different.

"Okay," Stiles says. "You can move now."

Derek moves carefully, making sure that Stiles is comfortable with the new intrusion before he starts to build back up to the rhythm they were at before. By the time they've reached a comfortable pace, Stiles is panting beneath him, his hand wrapped firmly around the base of his dick in a way that means he's trying to make this last and not doing a very good job.

"Derek," he gasps. "Derek, add another one, I can take it, _please_."

When he hears Stiles's request, Derek slows his pace enough to test Stiles's words against his body's reaction. Twisting his finger alongside his dick, Derek pulls against the stretched skin of Stiles's hole and crooks his finger, mimicking the feel of adding another. Stiles moans into the pillow beneath him, and his body accommodates the change, so Derek acquiesces, adding a second finger in beside the first.

He starts moving at an even slower pace than he did last time, giving Stiles the opportunity to say if it's too much or if he wants less, but Stiles does nothing but make encouraging sounds, his hand still wrapped around the base of his dick.

Once Derek reaches a steady pace, Stiles reaches back to grab Derek's hip, urging him to go faster.

"Close," he grits out, his voice rough and needy.

Derek uses his free hand to pull both of Stiles's above his head, holding them there. "Come for me," he says, punctuating his words with a few sharp thrusts.

Stiles does, coming untouched in a series of violent spasms that shudder through his body. Derek takes three more thrusts before he's coming too, the unexpected tightness of Stiles's hole around his cock and fingers enough to send him over the edge.

When the aftershocks have finally finished going through them, Derek gently pulls himself free of Stiles, rolling them so that they're lying side by side facing each other.

"That was what you wanted?" Derek asks, running his hands along Stiles's sides like he's checking for injuries. He's not entirely sure himself what he's doing, but it seems appropriate and Stiles leans into his touch, so he figures it's okay.

"Yeah," Stiles says, not bothering to stifle his yawn or hide the sleepy smile that follows. "That was awesome."

"You've been stretching yourself out quite a bit," Derek says, unsure whether or not this is a conversation they need to have at all, let alone a conversation they should have while Stiles is half asleep and in a post-orgasmic stupor.

A blush blooms on Stiles's face and spreads down his neck and chest. He makes a noncommittal noise and scoots forward to tuck his head under Derek's chin. Derek gets the message, but isn't entirely willing to let it go.

"Is there something we should talk about?" he asks, wincing slightly at the hesitation in his voice.

"In the morning," Stiles mumbles, curling up against Derek. And really, there's nothing Derek can say to argue with that.

"In the morning then. Goodnight, Stiles."

"G'night, D'rek."  
__________

They don't talk about it in the morning.

Although the blame for that lies solely with Derek's faulty alarm clock and Stiles's subsequent rush to make it to the Stilinski Sunday Breakfast on time, Derek still feels like he might have just missed the best opportunity to find out what it is Stiles wants.

And if it doesn't come up for the rest of the week, well, maybe Stiles has a lot going on at school with the first grading period ending. And maybe Coach really is pushing them harder and harder at lacrosse practice because he's an 'evil demon spawn who sucks the joy out of life.' Or maybe Stiles is avoiding the conversation.

Derek's got his money on the last one.

Derek seizes his opportunity after their date on Friday night, shutting the door behind him and making his way towards where Stiles is sprawled out on the couch. "We really should talk about it."

Stiles tenses, then flushes red and nods, scooting across the couch and curling up next to Derek, pressing his back against Derek's ribs and wrapping himself in Derek's arms. Derek lets him, pulling him in closer and tucking his chin over Stiles's head in a silent acknowledgment of Stiles's unspoken request.

Stiles doesn't say anything, his body alternating between tensing and relaxing in Derek's hold. When Stiles's breathing starts to turn erratic, Derek places a hand on his chest and breathes slowly with him until he calms down again. Silence falls, and Derek spends several quiet minutes just holding Stiles's relaxed body against his.

"Ireallylikeyourwolf," Stiles says in a rush, his body tensing suddenly as if he expects to be ridiculed or made fun of now that he's spoken.

"I know," Derek says, confused. Because he does know. Stiles had smelled more of arousal than fear the first time Derek tried to intimidate him with a show of fangs and claws, and it's only grown since then. Hell, half of their foreplay involves Derek flashing his eyes or growling at Stiles because it never fails to get him going. How can Stiles possibly think this is news to Derek?

"No, I mean," Stiles swallows, and Derek tightens his arms around Stiles, letting him know that he's not letting go. "I like your alpha form."

Derek's not sure how to respond. On one hand, Stiles was the one who helped him shift into his alpha form, a large black wolf, for the first time. He knows Stiles enjoys being around him in alpha form, remembers how bright his smile was the first time Derek had successfully shifted. How they'd romped around the woods, Derek stalking and pouncing and playing with Stiles like they were children rather than nearly grown men.

On the other hand, he knows this isn't about the lighthearted playfulness they've enjoyed in the past. He's never really considered his alpha form as being sexual or even capable of sex before. He supposes it is, since his body is functional in every other way, but it's just a little... different, thinking of his wolf form like that.

It probably wouldn't be entirely safe, all things considered. Even assuming he can have sex in his alpha form, Derek has no concept of what it would be like. Stiles probably has a better idea of what he's getting into than Derek does. Actually, if Stiles has been thinking about this enough to be embarrassed by it, he definitely has a better idea of what they'd be getting into than Derek does.

Even if he's unsure about all the details, Derek knows he won't purposely hurt Stiles. His pack has been his anchor for a while now; changing his anchor to be his pack had been a major factor in being able to achieve the alpha form. Anything that might happen to Stiles would come from them not being prepared, and they can fix that.

"Derek?" Stiles says, his voice small in the silence, like he's afraid of what Derek might say.

"Yeah, okay," Derek says, letting out a huff and focusing his attention back on Stiles.

"Yeah, okay?" Stiles repeats disbelievingly. "That's all you've got?"

"I mean," Derek clears his throat, feeling a little awkward. "We can."

" _What?_ " And it's really not fair that Stiles sounds scandalized by Derek's affirmative reply when he was the one who asked the question in the first place.

Derek frowns, "Not today, obviously. We'll need to talk out the details and I need to... figure stuff out, but yeah, we can try it."

That seems to break the tension, and Stiles bursts out into laughter. Derek glares at him and lets him twist around so that they're facing each other again.

" _'Figure stuff out'_ huh?" Stiles says, grinning like a lunatic. "I'll bet that means you don't even know how your plumbing works, do you?"

Derek narrows his eyes, but it just makes Stiles laugh louder. "Okay, okay, fair enough. I guess you wouldn't have anyone to try it out with. I wouldn't exactly want you gallivanting around with all the lady wolves in your spare time."

"There are no wolves in California," Derek grumbles, inwardly pleased that Stiles has gotten over his anxiety from earlier.

"Yeah, that's what I told Scott and now look at me, stuck with a whole pack of them," Stiles says, poking Derek's shoulder a few times before squirming his way back into Derek's lap. "So, which parts do we need to talk about?"

Derek resists the urge to bury his head in his hands and groan. Of course as soon as Stiles gets the green light it's full speed ahead. It always is, and he doesn't know why he thought this would be any different.

"How about we start with me not having hands," Derek finally says, deciding to open the conversation on neutral ground. His dick is definitely not neutral ground, not with the way Stiles's eyes are laughing at him for purposely avoiding the subject.

"Easy," Stiles says with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at Derek. "I've got two of them. They're perfectly capable of doing everything yours normally do. Trust me, I was a single horny teenager for years before you came along."

Derek wants to point out that being a horny teenager does not equate to being good at foreplay, but he has had enough firsthand experience with Stiles's hands to know that Stiles isn't exaggerating.

"Okay then," Derek concedes. "How about the fact that I won't be able to talk or check up on you?"

Stiles gives him that disappointed stare that means he's overlooked something incredibly obvious. "Since when do you need to talk to me to know how I'm doing?" Derek opens his mouth to respond, but Stiles cuts him off. "I'll give you regular updates on the situation if it'll make you feel better, but you and I both know I've never had a problem telling you if you're doing something I don't like."

Which is fair enough, Derek thinks, although he still wants a failsafe if something goes wrong. "Okay, but I need to know you're alright. If I tap your hand twice, you need to give me a response," Derek says, leveling Stiles with a look to show exactly how serious he is.

Stiles nods, not voicing any objections, but his unconcerned posture screams that he thinks Derek is being a worrywart. Still, it makes Derek feel better. Now that he's covered his two most pressing concerns, aside from the obvious, and he's really not sure if there is a tactful way to bring up the idea that he probably has a knot in his alpha form.

"Dude, I can see it all over your face," Stiles says, sighing fondly. "I’ve been curious about knots since I went on a research binge about werewolf mating habits when we started dating."

"You mean since you read all the werewolf porn you could get your hands on," Derek corrects. He's a little surprised Stiles hadn't asked about it before, since Stiles has never had any issues asking overly invasive questions before.

"Same thing," Stiles says, waving his hand as though he can physically dispel the differences between _research_ and _porn_. Derek snorts. "It's not like I needed any sort of confirmation that werewolves don't normally have knots. I do play lacrosse with Scott and Isaac and besides. Lydia and Allison would have mentioned any freaky business in the bedroom when I joined the werewolf-beau club. Then I started sleeping with you and, well. Firsthand experience, dude."

Derek rolls his eyes, because of course Stiles actually thought about it before dismissing the idea as ridiculous. Werewolf beta shifts were supposed to be for attacking and threatening; sprouting knots on their dicks would probably cause some teenage moron to try jacking off with _claws_ and then where would the species be?

"So you'd be ready for it?" Derek asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically at Stiles.

"Yes," Stiles agrees, then glances up to look at Derek's face. "I mean, I thought it was hot, but not really feasible, y'know? And then we went and figured out your alpha form and it kind of became a possibility."

Stiles stops as if that's a full explanation. It's really not. Derek raises his eyebrow higher and Stiles blushes. "Okay, fine. Maybe I ordered something online and maybe I've been using it for a while now so I'd be ready if I ever brought this up."

" _If?_ " Derek asks faintly. It’s not his best comeback ever, but in his defense, most of his brainpower is going towards thinking about exactly what it is Stiles has been _practicing_ with. For _months_.

Giving Derek a mild glare, Stiles huffs in indignation. "Yes, _if_. It's a little bit embarrassing to ask your werewolf-ily inclined boyfriend if he might not mind breaking out his furry form for some sexy fun times under the moon."

Derek snorts. "That sounds exactly like something you would ask."

Stiles tilts his head a bit before nodding reluctantly. "Yeah, it kind of does."

"Also, we will not be doing this outside. The bed will be much more comfortable."

"Yeah, I'm totally okay with that," Stiles agrees immediately, glancing over the top of the couch towards the bedroom almost hopefully.

"Not tonight. I still need some time to... become acquainted with my alpha form." Stiles does a poor job stifling his giggle. Derek glares and pushes him over enough to stand up. "And we're going to go over any concerns that come up again before anything happens."

"Fair enough," Stiles agrees, climbing up off the couch and following Derek in the direction of the kitchen. "So, ice cream and a movie?"

Derek nods. "I'll even let you pick."

"Ooooh, goody," Stiles says with a grin. "I pick _An American Werewolf in London_."

This time, Derek does bury his face in his hands and groan. Stiles just laughs and reaches around him to grab the ice cream.

"You should have known that one was coming, dude."

"I really should have."  
______________

Derek spends more time than he'd like to admit in his alpha form over the next week. It's not that he doubts his control or doesn't trust his instincts so much as he understands absolutely nothing about how this body is supposed to have sex with a human body. He supposes Stiles could help, but going to Stiles defeats the purpose of his self-exploration.

Thankfully he has figured out how to masturbate (Stiles would never let him live that one down if he had to ask for help), and has discovered that his penis is about six and a half inches long fully erect. The internet tells him that's small for a full grown gray wolf (and probably extremely small for a wolf his size), but he figures it's just part of werewolf biology. After all, his body in any form is most definitely not going to be mating and impregnating actual wolves, so it makes sense that he's proportioned to human standards.

The one thing Derek worries about is his knot. He knows for sure that he has one now - it's visible even on his flaccid penis - but he doesn't know how large it will be inside Stiles. Although it’s swollen up when he touched it on his own, he always got the feeling that it wasn't at the same capacity it would be with a partner. It's probable that, just like his length, his knot is proportioned for sex with humans, but the thought that it might not be makes him nervous.

By the time Friday night rolls around, Derek is as prepared as he'll ever be, and braces himself for the sound of Stiles at the door. Sure enough, five minutes to six, he hears Stiles pounding up the stairs and jogging down the hallway before he's hauling the loft door open without so much as a knock.

"So," Stiles says, waltzing his way into the main room and dropping his backpack by the couch, "are we going out for dinner or are we making this a night in?"

Derek snorts, closing the book he was reading with a snap and depositing it on top of Stiles's backpack. "Good evening to you too, Stiles. I'm so glad you could make it."

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles says, waving away the formalities with his hand as he sits on the arm of the couch and leans down to give Derek a kiss. "So really, how did this week go."

"It was informative," Derek says somewhat stiffly.

Stiles wrinkles his nose. "Seriously, dude? That's like saying something was interesting because you can't think of any other positive way to describe it. Did you-"

"Yes, Stiles," Derek interrupts. "I know 'how my plumbing works.'"

"Awesome," Stiles says with feeling. "So are we going to dinner first or are we having a night in?"

"I thought I'd let you decide," Derek replies, mentally checking that he did remember buy more milk and stock pizza in the freezer within the last week.

"Sweet. Night in it is then," Stiles says, grabbing Derek's wrist hauling him to his feet. "I cannot wait to ride that."

"I'm not big enough to ride," Derek says automatically, bringing up the first conversation they'd had after Stiles had seen his alpha form before realizing that's not what Stiles means at all.

"Oh, I really think you are," Stiles says, waggling his eyebrows and grinning lecherously at Derek's crotch.

"Right," Derek says, placing his hands on Stiles's shoulders and giving him a serious look. "There's one thing I need to make sure of first."

"Cool, sure," Stiles says, face scrunching up in a way that means he's trying to cover his nerves. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure how big my-" Derek swallows, "-my knot is going to get. I need to know you'll be okay."

A look of relief passes over Stiles's face. "I'll be fine. I totally thought this might be a thing," he pauses briefly and bends over to rummage through his backpack, emerging with a triumphant noise. "So I brought this."

This turns out to be a bright red silicone dildo with a bulge around the base. The toy as a whole is smaller than Derek, but the knot is probably comparable to his size. If this is what Stiles has been using for the past few months, they should be fine tonight.

During the few seconds of Derek's silent contemplation of the toy, Stiles's face has turned a blazing red. "We good?" he asks, still holding the toy out for Derek's perusal.

"Yeah," Derek says with a grin that borders on feral, taking the toy and dropping it back into Stiles's backpack. "We're good."

Derek leads the way to the bedroom, stripping off his clothes as he goes. Once he reaches the door he shifts, bones cracking and realigning in a process that gets easier every time he does it. When he turns around to check on Stiles, he's standing only a couple feet from Derek's shoulder with a fond smile on his face.

"Show off," he accuses. Derek whuffs softly, using his snout to ruck up Stiles's shirt and jamming his cold nose into Stiles's side.

Stiles lets out an unmanly yelp, glaring at Derek and shoving his shirt back down. "Now you're just being mean."

Derek swishes his tail playfully and herds Stiles into the bedroom, nosing him towards the bed.

"Yes, alright. I get the point, you big furball," Stiles says, flopping back onto the bed and spreading his arms. Derek hops up beside him, taking a seat by his head. When Stiles just lies there and doesn't move, Derek lets out a high pitched whine and nudges his face. Stiles studiously ignores him, so Derek starts sniffing his way down Stiles's body, paying special attention to the areas where Stiles's scent is strongest.

Stiles still hasn't responded by the time Derek reaches the crest of his hip, but arousal is coming off of him in waves. Even if Derek couldn't smell it, the bulge in Stiles's jeans would be a dead giveaway that he's not nearly as apathetic about the whole thing as he's trying to appear. Deciding to go for gold, Derek scoots ungracefully down the bed so that he can lick the material covering Stiles's erection, making sure to keep his teeth away from the sensitive organ.

That elicits a response from Stiles, who lets out a strangled groan and uses his hands to bat Derek away. "Alright, you win. I'll take them off."

Derek gives an approving huff, and sits back on the bed to watch as Stiles flings his shirt off over his head and fumbles with the button on his jeans. He looks over at Derek when he manages to get them off, face flushed with arousal and mild embarrassment.

"Don't look at me like that," Stiles says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not all of us can be models all the time."

Derek doesn't respond to Stiles's statement, instead leaning off the bed enough to lick a warm stripe from the base of Stiles's cock to the tip. Stiles moans appreciatively, spreading his legs slightly to give Derek better access.

Complying with the unspoken request, Derek shuffles forward to get a better angle, running his tongue along Stiles's balls and shaft again. Stiles's cock twitches, and Derek wishes he were able to take it into his mouth like he would in human form. Instead he settles for paying extra attention to the tip, the wide edges of his tongue catching on the flare of the head and causing Stiles to bury his hands in Derek's fur.

Derek is a little startled when he tastes the first drop of precome. As a human, semen mostly just tastes salty and bitter, but his alpha form is able to distinguish all the nuances that make up the flavor of Stiles in just one drop of liquid. It's surprisingly pleasant, and Derek finds himself greedily lapping up all of it, until Stiles pushes him away with an almost pained groan.

"Not that you're not unfairly good at that," Stiles says, panting lightly as he holds Derek's head just far enough away that he can't touch, "but I really don't want to go off after just a five minute blowjob tonight."

Derek rubs his cheek against Stiles's hand in understanding, and lets Stiles climb back up onto the bed before joining him. Stiles flops onto his stomach, humping the bed a few times before rising up onto his knees and reaching into the bedside table for the lube.

When it takes Stiles more than twenty seconds to emerge with the lube, Derek huffs loudly and considers trying to help Stiles find the bottle.

"Well excuse me, not all of us can scent where things are like you can," Stiles says indignantly, finally locating the bottle and moving back into the middle of the bed. He pulls his knees under him, exposing his hole before uncapping the bottle, and Derek really can't resist the temptation.

Leaning forward and taking a deep whiff, Derek lets out a low rumble of pleasure. Unlike the taste of Stiles's semen, his scent here smells exactly the same to Derek in human and alpha forms, except that he can't remember it being this intoxicating.

Derek stretches forward and tastes the skin around Stiles's hole. Stiles lets out a whine, his muscles fluttering against Derek's tongue. Intrigued by the response, Derek presses against Stiles's entrance again, licking and tasting until Stiles is pushing back against him to get more contact. Derek does what he can, but his body lacks the finesse a human would have. He puts pressure against Stiles's hole with his tongue and feels the muscles relax underneath him, trying to grant him entrance. Derek pushes forward as much as he can, whining needily when his form proves incapable of penetration, his teeth pressed against the Stiles's sensitive skin.

Stiles pulls away from him with a deep moan, and Derek whimpers at the loss of contact. Turning to face Derek and looking more than a little wrecked, Stiles grins. "Dude, that was amazing. You should always give rimjobs like this _all the time_."

Derek lets his mouth open in the canine form of a grin, hearing Stiles snort with amusement at his self-satisfaction. "Okay," Stiles says, squirting some of the lube onto his hand. "My turn. I'll let you know when I'm ready."

Sitting back on his haunches Derek settles in to watch, his paw brushing up against Stiles's ankle just enough to maintain contact. He knows Stiles needs to be prepared, and he knows he can't do it, what with his current lack of human appendages, but now that he's not actively giving Stiles pleasure, his own situation is starting to make itself known.

Glancing down, Derek realizes that he's almost fully emerged from his sheath. He hadn't really cared or had time to notice before, but now that he doesn't have Stiles's scent and taste holding all his attention, the throbbing in his groin is becoming more and more insistent.

Stiles shifts on the bed just enough to dislodge the contact of his ankle and Derek's paw, jerking Derek's attention back to Stiles. He moans happily, and Derek relaxes, his eyes drawn to the movement of Stiles's hand preparing himself.

He sees Stiles pull the first finger out, massaging the glistening skin before pushing two fingers back in, his body opening to accept them without protest. Derek watches as Stiles twists his wrist, angling his hand to reach deeper inside himself. Stiles freezes suddenly, his body tensing then relaxing as he lets out a pleased sigh.

When Stiles starts probing his entrance with a third finger, Derek lets out an eager whine and shuffles closer. He can hear Stiles letting out a breathy laugh, but he doesn't let it bother him, choosing instead to rest his chin on Stiles's ass and breath in the scent of Stiles's arousal. Only this time, instead of a whiff of pure Stiles, Derek's senses are assaulted with the harsh chemical smell of artificial lubricant. He sneezes, jerking his head back abruptly and putting his paws over his nose in an attempt to get rid of the burn.

At Derek's reaction, Stiles stops his preparations and flops against the bed shaking with laughter. Derek gives him a betrayed look, his paws still clutching his nose.

"Dude," Stiles wheezes, holding his sides. "Oh my god, dude."

Derek glares until Stiles's laughter subsides and he rolls back onto his elbows and knees, reaching for the lube again.

"Now that you've undone all my hard work, I'll just have to start over," Stiles says teasingly, sliding one re-lubed finger into his ass. Derek snaps his teeth and lets out a little growl to show exactly what he thinks of Stiles's assertion.

"Okay, fine," Stiles says, sighing lightly even as a grin takes over his face. "Maybe I can speed it up a little this time."

Derek watches as Stiles pulls his finger out, then presses three against his entrance in its place. It doesn't take long before Stiles is pumping them in and out, the slick sounds of easy penetration loud in Derek's ears. He lets out a soft bark and nudges Stiles's ankle with his paw, drawing attention back to himself.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Stiles sighs, adjusting his hand so to test the ring of muscle with a fourth finger. It slides in, not as easily as the first three, but Stiles doesn't wince or give any indication of discomfort.

Time seems to drag for Derek as he watches Stiles maneuver his hand to get the best angle to finish stretching himself. He knows this is a necessary step, but he can feel himself throbbing, his penis fully emerged from its sheath and starting to become engorged with blood. He whines as he watches Stiles scissor his fingers one last time, his hole slick and red and just waiting for Derek to fill it.

"Okay," Stiles says finally, withdrawing his hand and bracing himself against the mattress, "I'm ready."

If Derek lets out a relieved whine when he hears those words, it's soft enough that he will have plausible deniability later when Stiles asks him about it. He tries to be careful, shuffling and scooting forward instead of bounding up and shoving his dick into Stiles like he wants to, but he ends bumping into Stiles's back and stepping on his legs anyway.

"Here. Let me just..." Stiles trails off, reaching back to help position Derek's body comfortably behind his.

Trying not to make any sudden movements that will dislodge their position, Derek stands as motionless as he can over Stiles. He feels Stiles's hand touch the fur over his rib cage and slide down and back, reaching for his cock. Derek barely avoids jumping when he feels Stiles's hand close around him, guiding him to Stiles's entrance.

His tip is tapered and slides in without so much as a hitch in Stiles's breathing. The rest follows almost as easily, Stiles arching his back and blowing out a heavy breath as Derek bottoms out, the bulge at the base of his dick barely larger now than his normal girth in human form.

Derek doesn't move, giving Stiles time to adjust. Finally, Stiles arches against him, pushing up flush against Derek's underside. Derek feels the soft fur there bend and brush against him like little pinpricks, then flatten and spread like he's absorbing Stiles into himself. He lets out a low rumble that sweeps through both him and Stiles, and feels Stiles's answering groan before he starts thrusting.

The rhythm starts out slow, Derek trying to keep from tying to Stiles too fast, knowing that it's going to be over when he does. Instead, he tries to angle his dick towards Stiles's prostate. It takes him a little longer than usual before the intensity of Stiles's moans tell him he's hit the right location, but he chalks it up to this being a new experience for both of them.

"Fuck, Derek, come on," Stiles says after a few minutes, arching into Derek and urging him to increase the pace. Derek obliges, thrusting harder into Stiles and driving him forward.

"Yes," Stiles hisses out, bracing himself on one elbow as he uses the other hand to stoke himself. Unhappy with the way Stiles inches up the bed after every thrust, Derek lets out a low pitched growl and moves his forepaws in front of Stiles's shoulders, holding him in place.

Stiles groans, dropping his head and exposing the back of his neck to Derek. Understanding the request, Derek opens his jaws to bite down against the back of Stiles's neck, careful not to break the skin. Gasping, Stiles tenses and stills for a moment. Derek can smell semen, but not enough for Stiles to have come. He must have the base of his dick in an iron grip to ward off his orgasm. Growling into Stiles's skin, Derek snaps his hips forward, feeling his own orgasm rising within him.

Moaning loudly and meeting Derek thrust for thrust, Derek hears Stiles start stripping his own dick again. The smell of precome and the feel of Stiles purposely clenching around him drives him over the edge and Derek feels his knot inflate as he orgasms.

"Fuck, Derek. _Fuck_ that's hot," Stiles says, his voice barely audible over the blood roaring through Derek's ears. "I can feel you knot, _oh my god_."

By the time Derek comes down from his high, Stiles is still moaning and hard beneath him. He growls with impatience, shifting his hips so that his knot tugs against Stiles's rim. Stiles gives a loud whine and Derek smells an exceptionally strong odor of come, and he knows Stiles is close. Letting lose a rumbling growl, Derek uses his teeth at Stiles's neck to shake him slightly, pulling against Stiles's rim with his knot.

Stiles comes with a muffled shout, his whole body trembling from the force of his orgasm. His muscles clench around Derek's knot again, and the pressure must be exactly what his body needs because he's coming again, painting Stiles's insides with come for the second time in as many minutes.

Derek comes back down from his second orgasm more quickly, his come leaking from Stiles's ass and dripping down his thighs, marking both of them with their mixed scent. Stiles has mostly collapsed forward onto the bed, his body covering what Derek is fairly sure is a massive wet spot.

Tugging gently, Derek tries to dislodge himself from Stiles, hoping to move them into a more comfortable napping position. At the movement, Stiles grumbles, twisting around so that Derek can see the pleased expression on his face.

"I'm pretty sure we're going to be stuck like this for a while. Unless you plan on ripping my intestines out." Stiles pauses for a minute to consider what he said. "Please don't rip my intestines out."

Derek gives his opinion of that with a snort, earning a tired smile from Stiles. "Yeah, well, you're kind of hard to read, dude. You're black and your eyes are black and the lights are off because I forgot to turn them on when we came in. Although I guess that wouldn't bother you because werewolves and night vision and-"

Derek interrupts with a growl. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure we're going to be stuck like this for fifteen minutes or half an hour or so?" Stiles's sentence comes out like a question, even though Derek is sure that if he knows how long this usually lasts for wolves, Stiles definitely knows. He was just hoping that his knot would go down faster to accommodate human cuddling.

"But hey," Stiles continues, "maybe if you, I don't know, sat down and got on your side this would be more comfortable? Because no matter how much I like having you take me ass up, this is getting a little awkward."

Whuffing slightly in amusement, Derek complies with Stiles's suggestion, lowering his hindquarters to the bed and rolling onto his side with Stiles between his forepaws.

"Perfect," Stiles says with a yawn, scooting backwards to press himself against Derek's fur. "We should do that again after I raid your fridge for dinner."

Derek huffs, not sure if he's agreeing or protesting Stiles eating all his food, leaving the interpretation up to Stiles. He's just happy that Stiles enjoyed himself as much as Derek did.

"I'm wiped right now though," Stiles says, pulling a pillow down from the top of the bed and stuffing it under his head. "You'll get up in an hour or so and make us pizza, right?"

Sighing at Stiles's request but knowing that if he doesn't they'll never eat dinner, Derek nudges Stiles's shoulder gently in agreement. Settling down for a nap, Derek presses his nose into Stiles's hair and listens to his breathing even out before closing his eyes and letting himself drift off to sleep.

 

 


End file.
